Page 22 of Maverick
“Rough. Reese clung to me like an octopus and it was like cuddling with a radiator.” Maverick peered up at me, thatbeautiful blush creeping over his cheeks. He likely never had to look up to anyone. Green eyes meeting mine, he swallowed hard. “We hooked up last night.”
“I know,” I said simply, taking a sip of my coffee. “I heard you.”
“You did? I was that loud?”
I laughed. “No, sweetheart. I was walking past the door. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put those noises together. I see the way you two look at each other—I did the first time you showed up on the field. I figured the two of you would end up fighting or fucking eventually. Since we got the fighting out of the way…”
Maverick’s cheeks deepened in color. “You’re not upset?”
“About you hooking up? Not at all—that was hot as fuck. I meant it when I said we don’t have to be exclusive. All I ask is to be kept in the loop. That fighting, however…” I tightened my hold on him, rubbing my palm over his back.
He hummed and leaned into the touch. “I know. I’ll do better. I promise.”
Since we were still alone, Maverick leaned against my shoulder, sipping at his drink and staring out over the ocean. With nothing but the waves crashing around us, I jolted when he finally spoke. “Can I stay with you tonight? When we get back to Auburn?”
Yep, this pretty boy was settled nice and cozy under my skin.
“Of course you can, princess.”
Monday marked the first preseason game, and it would be the one chance to prove that all of our training had been worth it. The Yellowhammers weren’t near the top of the league by any means but if we worked our asses off, we had a real shot at making the playoffs.
Unfortunately, it was also the beginning of August. In most of the country, temperatures were starting to change. Leaves werebeginning to change color; you’d often note that crisp chill to the early morning air that meant fall was on its way.
Not in Alabama, or the entirety of the southeast for that matter. It was like that part of the country banded together and decided to gethotterin August. The Gulf Coast in particular was a different kind of miserable with the insufferable humidity.
Some might think that I’d be used to it after being born and raised in Alabama, but that was the furthest thing from the truth—for anyone. Heat made people angry, no matter how accustomed you were. Blood boiled and tempers flared—and that was without any lingering tension between two people.
It wasn’t lost on me that Reese and Maverick hadn’t even attempted to speak to each other, but I saw the looks when they thought no one was paying attention. Those two were far from finished with what they’d started in that bedroom. Of course, I hadn’taskedMaverick about it either. By the time we got back to Auburn, it was all we could do to throw ourselves in the shower and crawl into bed. Surprisingly, even after the warnings of how rough a sleeper I was, he demanded that I stay with him.
And for the first time in a long time, I slept like a baby. I only awoke when Maverick did, batting his pretty lashes at me until I joined him in the shower—where he convinced me into trading hand jobs, which made us both ten minutes late to practice. Luckily, most of the guys were still recovering from the weekend away, so no one batted an eye.
In the minutes before the first game of the season, nerves were to be expected—even for some of the more seasoned players.
Regardless of how long you’d been doing it, everyone had a ritual. Some prayed, some prepared a specific meal or relied on a special playlist or TV show.
Me? I needed complete silence. That charged feeling in the locker room didn’t do me any good. So, I found myself hiding away in that empty office. It wasn’t entirely unheard of for me to find a quiet room, but seeing Maverick and Reese toss eachother longing glances from across the room was a distraction that I didn’t need.
But I wasn’t jealous. In fact, it was the exact opposite. I wanted to drag them somewhere private and demand that they re-enactexactlywhat happened.
I’d set a timer on my phone, which had ten minutes left on it. We’d gotten lucky—our first game had been scheduled against the Georgia Bobcats for weeks. A last-minute switch changed that, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t seen the relief on Maverick’s face when it was announced.
Trades were common in the world of pro sports, and they were often beyond our control, but I couldn’t even begin to imagine what Maverick could have been going through. After all, I’d been drafted to my dream team as well. I was born and raised in Auburn, and I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. When you worked in such a demanding career, you learned to accept that it might mean long stretches away from your family, but to be ripped away from your comfort zone and thrown into a place that held so much heartache? That had to be the worst kind of torture.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Now wasn’t the time. When we stepped onto that field, Maverick and I couldn’t be anything. We had a job to do.
With six minutes left on my timer, I leaned back in the chair and shut my eyes. I couldn’t focus with a bunch of noise, so playing music or watching TV—hell even playing a mindless game with some of the other guys wasn’t enough to help me relax. Years ago, when I was just a rookie, the team therapist helped me lean into meditation as a way to clear my head. If I was focused on mindfulness and breathing, there wasn’t room for anything else.
By the time my alarm went off, I felt much calmer. I left the office and as I locked up, the rest of the team had made their way through the halls to the tunnels. Instead of falling to the back like I wanted to, I weaved my way to the front with the other captains, but not without tossing a grin to Maverick. He wore his heart onhis sleeve, and his apprehension on his face. My entire body ached to draw him into my arms.
Later, I promised myself. No matter the outcome of this game, Maverick was mine the second it was over.
“Webster, you’re calling the first coin toss!”
“Yes, Coach,” I called, strapping on my helmet.
I could already feel that the stadium was packed. Footfalls echoed around me, the roar of the crowd already permeating through the tunnel. The rest of the guys were already getting pumped and with the vibrations continuing up through my chest, I began to feel the same. Since we were on home turf, it wasourfight song that blared through the speakers. My heart thumped with every beat of the music. Chanting kicked up around me and with the signal from the head coach, our quarterback charged forward, and we burst through the tunnel.
11
